A Mirror Of Eternity
by twitchy witch
Summary: How does one deal with unexpected immortality? Evie might not get the chance to find out, unless she can help find a solution to save the doomed Ever After. Then, perhaps, she can decide between justice and forgiveness when it comes to the devious demon who has stolen her heart. OC/OC, Rachel/Al (?) Sequel to "A Mile With Sorrow."
1. Chapter 1

_This story is a continuation of "A Mile With Sorrow." If you'd like to start the whole adventure from the very beginning, the first story chronologically is "The Scar." The canon of this story is current up until "Black Magic Sanction," at which point it takes a left hand turn, incorporating a few plot elements of "Pale Demon" and advancing five years into the future. A humorous summary of the major plot elements of this fanfic series (up to but not including "A Mile With Sorrow") can be found in "Ash and Evie in Fifteen Minutes."_

_The cover art is my original sketch of Ash, as modeled by Gavin Rossdale (swoon). The original photo can be found at: handson . provocateuse . show / gavin_rossdale (You'll have to remove the spaces in the link to get it to work.) It's incomplete because I always get bored around the legs...I'd rather be writing. ;)  
_

**A brief summary of the story until this point follows:**

Yvette Therese Sinclaire and four other witch friends were born pre-Turn. They had the misfortune of meeting Ash, a familiar-hunting demon (protégé of Al, actually). The story "The Scar," told from the point of view of Evie many years afterward, details how Ash manipulated and tricked the little group, and how Evie alone escaped with a scarred face.

Why Evie then went and fell in love with the guy forty years later is still beyond her.

She's not all that happy about it, especially considering that it's partly due to a compulsion Ash placed on her as a teenager. Given everything they've been through together since, she's pretty sure he loves her back as much as a demon can love, though Ash has often said he only hangs onto her out of pride and to stave off boredom. Ash is also a compulsive liar. Evie has categorized their relationship as sort of a marriage of necessity, with both parties gaining from the association and happily infatuated in the bargain…even if she can't stand his line of work, and he finds her scruples rather stifling. Equally irritating to Ash is the fact that he actually takes this relationship seriously, to the point that he's considering whether he must give it up for the sake of Evie's future sanity.

Oh, and Evie's a demon, too. How Evie survived has not been explained. Ash attributes it to her mother's immune deficiency disorder, which might have left her mother incapable of mounting an immune response to the Rosewood enzyme (which would mean that Evie's dead mother was a demon, too). But Rosewood cases are on the rise and Rosewood children are living longer. It may be that Evie is simply the product of witch evolution. The elves would dearly love to know how this is even possible, and have managed to trick Evie out of a DNA sample to find out. As a demon woman, Evie must be trained properly, or the sheer power she can command could easily damage her mind beyond repair. Demon women can channel far more power than the men, and untrained ladies have created rogue ley lines and scarred reality in other dreadful ways. Evie's need is especially great because she taught herself to spindle, and does it improperly.

Given that she tries to blow up her demon lover every time he's tried to train her, she's reluctantly turned to Al. Her relationship with Al has until this point been mutually antagonistic, probably because she's tried to blow him up too, and Al doesn't hold with that kind of nonsense. Also, Evie brings back some painful memories for Al, reminding him of his long-dead wife at a time when he'd really like to entice Rachel back into his life after a major falling out. At this point in the story Evie has a reluctant truce with Al, who she respects and semi-trusts even if he still skeeves the hell out of her. Rachel, on the other hand, gave into her desire for Al, then regretted it the next day—to the point where she allowed Trent to help her fake her death after the battle with Ku'Sox. Al knows she's alive now, but is wisely giving her space.

Evie's only other option for training and potential life partner is Dali, who comes highly recommended by Newt. The fact that Newt is pushing Evie toward giving up Ash for Dali strikes Evie as suspicious for any number of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that nobody can stand Dali. But as everyone seems convinced that Dali is the better choice for protecting Evie's mind, the ever-practical Evie has reluctantly agreed to give the matter some thought. Particularly since when demons succumb to madness, they don't _die_— they're shuffled off to the surface and forgotten.

In addition to all her personal angst, Evie is embroiled in a complex plot that seems to involve demon, Coven, and elven factions either working together or playing off each other. From what she has been able to ascertain, Zaebos and Newt (the brain trust that came up with the bright idea of Ku'Sox) hatched another harebrained scheme to escape the Ever After by convincing elven scientists to create a demon woman. Zaebos had access to the demon DNA storage area. With the cooperation of Coven witch Brooke, and the funding and scientific expertise provided by Ellasbeth Withon's extended family, Hope (child of Zaebos and a witch named Delores) was born. Although Evie doesn't have all the details, the deal seemed to be fairly straightforward: In exchange for a healthy, fertile demon woman, Zaebos would supply the elves with a pre-curse elven DNA sample so that they could engineer their own cure. Should the elves fail to turn over Hope, Zee would take Ellasbeth's firstborn child instead. Zee has an odd, creepy obsession with elven infants.

Of course, Trent and Rachel screwed that all up with their recent independent acquisition of an elven DNA sample. That, and Newt has predictably forgotten her own involvement in this scheme, and decided to adopt Hope after Hope lost control of her own demon magic and lost her family into the strange ley line anomaly she accidentally created. Hope had discovered the painful circumstances of her birth when Delores tracked her down, but the magic she unleashed in response took her memories of that day and damaged her mind. Delores was later silenced permanently by the Coven to cover up their involvement in Hope's birth. Evie's certain that Hope created an unfinished tulpa, which is warping a portion of UCLA's campus and wreaking havoc on the already unbalanced Ever After. There's a possibility that Hope's adopted elven family are trapped alive inside, frozen in time.

But since Newt has turned on Zaebos and won't let him have Hope, Zee has turned his attentions to Ellasbeth and Trent's newborn child, Lucy. Rachel fled with the child, ripping open yet another hole in reality in the process, but Zee followed her back to Trent's gardens where Evie was hanging out with her new gargoyle, Crescendo, and her elven friends. What happened next is unclear, but it resulted in Evie's death. Ash was not with her at the time. He, Dali, Al, and a band of ex-Coven witches (Pierce, Brooke, and Adrian) were busy trying to remove the Coven from the playing board. The Coven's spells protect an area of vital importance to the demons: the nexus of the ley lines, a critical structural support of the Ever After that the demons would very much like to have back in their control. Unfortunately Oliver (who has become strangely mentally unstable recently) got the drop on them. The demons were banished, and it's unclear whether the witches are still alive or not.

The previous story began after Ku'Sox killed Ash (he got better) and the emotional fallout that ensued. It seemed appropriate to end "A Mile With Sorrow" with Evie's death (she gets better) and the equally emotional fallout that follows. But Ash and Evie have walked their mile with sorrow, and this final story is about finding hope in darkness, and the reemergence of beauty after destruction, and if not total redemption in the eyes of the world, at least peace with one's self. As the poet Rumi said, "Sorrow prepares you for joy. It violently sweeps everything out of your house, so that new joy can find space to enter. It shakes the yellow leaves from the bough of your heart, so that fresh, green leaves can grow in their place. It pulls up the rotten roots, so that new roots hidden beneath have room to grow. Whatever sorrow shakes from your heart, far better things will take their place."

The title is inspired by a poem by Kahlil Ghibran, reproduced below. I'm so happy that Karen Moning turned me on to this wonderful poet. My writing is heavily influenced by her Fever series. And of course I have to say thanks also to Kim Harrison, who has created this amazing world that I'm playing with and I hope she'll forgive me for all the liberties I'm taking with her characters.

* * *

**On Beauty, by Kahlil Gibran**

_And a poet said, "Speak to us of Beauty."  
Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide?  
And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech?_

The aggrieved and the injured say, "Beauty is kind and gentle.  
Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us."  
And the passionate say, "Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread.  
Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us."

The tired and the weary say, "Beauty is of soft whisperings. She speaks in our spirit.  
Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow."  
But the restless say, "We have heard her shouting among the mountains,  
And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions."

At night the watchmen of the city say, "Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east."  
And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, "We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset."  
In winter say the snow-bound, "She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills."  
And in the summer heat the reapers say, "We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair."

All these things have you said of beauty.  
Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied,  
And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy.  
It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth,  
But rather a heart enflamed and a soul enchanted.  
It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear,  
But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears.  
It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw,  
But rather a garden forever in bloom and a flock of angels forever in flight.

People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face.  
But you are life and you are the veil.  
Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror.  
But you are eternity and you are the mirror.


	2. Awakening

**In Which Newt Clutches Her Pearls**

Cold, so cold. Trapped in endless, windswept nothingness with the taste of ash in my mouth. I knew where I was the instant sensation flooded back, but for the life of me I couldn't remember where the hell I'd just been. The confused tangle of sensation was fading, save for one memory, forever burnt into my mind: of hanging suspended, wrapped in sticky bonds, unable to escape, for a long, endless, horrifying eternity of indecision, pulled at once in disparate directions. But unable to feel beyond the bonds of the chrysalis that held me, I could only endure, and wait for release. Then reality yanked me back in a jumble of sensations. I was lying naked on the bare dirt of the Ever After, shivering violently in the foul wind, stinking grit between my teeth. I'd awoken in the convergence of three unfamiliar ley lines, and their icy currents rasped over my skin. The first few moments were agonizing, until my aura reasserted itself and its protection blossomed over my soul once more.

How the hell had I gotten here?

My brain scurried to catalog recent events. Ash was alive, not dead. Rachel was alive, too, and Al was pissed at me for hiding her, even though I hadn't known I'd known. Adrian… oh, _shit._ Adrian had just made an idiotic bargain with Ash to be my protector, and Ash tried to make me mark him, and I'd… freaked out. I grimaced, eyes tearing up. I'd burst out of control. _ Again. Oh my god, did I kill Ash? _ I nearly hyperventilated in panic at the thought. No, no, no, he couldn't be dead, not when I'd just gotten him back!

No, wait… there was more… someone… someone had struck me, and brought me down… and then what? Then what? I rubbed my streaming eyes as I wracked my befuddled brain, but nothing more came. Then they'd tossed me out here, naked and alone, to die? Had Ash left me here? Had he finally had enough and abandoned me? Because he couldn't be dead. Of course he wasn't dead. Demons always came back, didn't they?

I coughed up and spat the grit I'd involuntarily inhaled, struggling to sit up. _Ash?!_ There was no response to my mental summons, but I couldn't tell yet if it was him ignoring me, or our connection still being fuzzy after… whatever had just happened. I felt like I'd just been hammered by a giant cosmic smite button. Every muscle was trembling violently, aching as if I'd never used it before, and nausea churned in my gut — or perhaps it was hunger. The sun was either rising or setting, a huge, livid orb staining the landscape with its angry red glare. There was nothing, absolutely nothing for miles around, save for an angry seething darkness some ways off that hurt my eyes to contemplate for long . I couldn't judge how far off it was, but it didn't seem to be moving toward me. No shelter, not even a blasted dead tree. I curled up with arms around knees for warmth, but if I didn't get out of the cold soon there'd be little point in—

"Sorry I'm late. Nobody should wake up alone."

I shrieked with surprise to see Newt sitting beside me, on a patch of earth that was definitely bare a second before. Her face was grave as she reached out and touched my shoulder. Magic sparked as burnt amber-scented fabric slithered over my skin, a heavy woolen garment of some kind that, while scratchy and shapeless, was at least warm. "Newt?"

"I'd say the first time's the worst," she said, voice quiet. "But it's _always_ the first time."

"What happened? Why am I here?" I glanced around for Ash, but there was nothing but the dirt, and the grit, and the endless nothing scoured by the wind whipping through the hazy dusk. "Where's Ash? Did he leave me here?"

Newt shrugged. "In a manner of speaking. Don't worry; I'm sure he'll be around shortly. He was… otherwise occupied."

She reached out and took my tightly clenched fist. I just stared at her, bewildered, as she pried my fingers apart. I hadn't even noticed I was clenching it, but it turned out to be a milky green bead, perhaps glass or pearl, about the size of a pea. Newt examined it dispassionately, drawing a finger over the smooth, shining surface like a connoisseur, touching her tongue to it for the briefest of instants before pulling away with a grimace. "What… what is that? What's going on?"

She held it up, though I noted that she was definitely holding it out of my reach. "It's your death, Yvette Therese Sinclaire. May I have it?"

"My… death?" I asked, nonplussed.

"You should give it to me and let it go. It's for the best."

I opened my mouth to say sure, fine, whatever, but something stopped me. "Newt, are you telling me that I'm dead? Is that my soul?" I looked around the blasted landscape. I was in Hell. Of course. I shivered, still cold under the woolen garment. I'd rather hoped it would be hotter.

"No, no, love. You're very much alive. It's simply the tulpa of your last few moments. Look how big it is. You didn't die quickly. You don't need the memories, trust me." She pulled out an ominously long rope of similar pearls from nowhere, and I blinked at their range of sizes and colors. Mine was larger than average, though I did see a number of others that were bigger. One, a livid red-gold, was nearly marble-sized. Death apparently came in a rainbow-hued assortment, which Newt had sorted and strung neatly by size and shade. Perhaps they were the colors of demons' auras? "May I keep it?"

"You… collect deaths," I said, wondering if this was some weird hallucination. But hallucinations shouldn't be so cold, and collecting deaths absolutely sounded like a Newt thing to do. Still, if other demons entrusted their deaths to Newt, I supposed I didn't see the harm. "I… guess so?"

Newt smiled the smile of every collector faced with a neat new score. She pierced my bead neatly with a small glowing needle, then slid it onto the string, filing it with the other greens. "Useful things, my little deaths. When immortality grinds down everything into monotonous drudgery, come find me, Yvette. We shall sip of death together, and remember how to live."

A horrifying idea was knocking on my momentarily bemused consciousness, because now I remembered waking up to find Adrian was Ash's familiar, and there had been a number of curses placed on me that day, and… "Immortality…?" I said faintly.

"Mmm-hmm. Welcome to the club," Newt said, stretching her string of prizes between her two hands to admire it.

"He _didn't_," I said. Now I could remember the conversation. Newt wanted to kill me, cast a curse of death on me. Ash convinced her to make it conditional, right? That's what he'd told me. No, that's what he'd told _Adrian._ And Adrian had told me… Newt wanted to kill me, and Ash had intervened, and… and protested that _of course_ he wouldn't have taken a curse of death to save my life, he'd have made Adrian take it… "He didn't," I insisted again, voice breaking. _How could he? How could he have done this to me?_

"Of course he didn't," Newt said, fingers stroking the smooth line of little shining deaths as if they were far more engrossing than this conversation. "_I _did. Dali and I. Kavi didn't tell you? He was so furious about it. But he must have accepted it, or you wouldn't be here."

"You?" I let it sink in, mining my recent memory. My mind obliged, throwing up scenes without coherence or narrative, just snapshots. Tezrian, the surface demon. Al, gaze distant, saying it was worth it, everything was worth it. Ash, begging me not to make him the instrument of my destruction. Adrian, eyes shining, saying Ash would die for me. Ash, refusing to elaborate on the curses he'd laid on me. Ash glaring at Dali. Dali, biting my finger, while globes of light danced around us. A thousand beautiful pinpoints of light, and alien laughter tinkling in my soul. I whimpered and covered my head, but the deluge of inexplicable and terrifying scenes just kept coming.

Newt _tsk'd_ impatiently, and the stinging slap on the cheek that followed was an effective distraction. She ignored my glare. "Best to give yourself a few minutes, Yvette. Our resurrection curse is very good, but like our healing curses, it needs a reference. You always wake up in exactly the state you were in when it was cast. Your soul, of course, remembers everything since then, but it must rewrite the newer experiences into your brand new brain. Takes a little time. Count yourself lucky you have mere days to rebuild. You can imagine how it feels to lose several thousand years."

No, I couldn't, actually. I was having a hard enough time imagining what was happening to me right now. My brain seemed to be working fine, just sluggishly… as if programs were still busy booting up in the background and vital systems were coming back online one by one. I'd decide later that Newt was actually doing me a favor by distracting me during the process, annoying as she was. "How long would that take?"

"Weeks, sometimes. Memory's funny. It's not linear, you know. The worst part is not knowing what you lost." Newt looked up, gazing off in the direction of the distant blackness. "I used to die, then take the potions to keep the memories from coming back. Never works for long. Everything's too interconnected. The pieces eventually assemble themselves into recognizable patterns, even if bits are missing." She sighed. "Then you die _again_, and everything comes back in a new shape, newer memories resurrecting what was once forgotten."

I sat there and tried to keep breathing, and tried not to let Newt's words send me into a panic attack. I'd _died._ I'd died and now I was reborn, just as Ash had been all those weeks ago. Something… some_one _had killed me. But I hadn't yet found the thread that led me to the most recent memories, and felt too fragile to go looking for it yet. I huddled down, loathe to even think about all this too hard, for fear of spinning off into insanity. I had died. I'd come back. I was one of them, truly.

I was immortal.

Would I end up like Tezrian one day?

And every damned time I died, I'd wake up in a confused panic, abandoned in my frigid Hell, wondering if I'd killed Ash in my moment of freakout? Somehow the latter was the part that was triggering my vague sense of injustice the most. _ Really? Every damned time?_

Desperate for distraction, I opened my second sight, wondering where the hell we were in reality. It was a parking lot. "Newt… what _is_ this place?"

"It's where we wake up," she said, unhelpfully.

"I mean, in reality—?"

"Somewhere in Cambodia, I think."

"But it's a parking lot," I said.

Newt gave me an exasperated eye roll. "They do _drive_ in Cambodia, silly," she said.

"That's not what I meant!" I grumbled. "I just figured there'd be something significant to mark the spot! You couldn't even have built some kind of shelter…?" Even as I said this, I knew what a stupid idea it was — no structure, whether it was a ghostly reflection of the building in reality or a demon-constructed dwelling, lasted long on the surface of the Ever After.

"Nope. Big secret." Newt realized I was still not getting it, and leaned forward with a mirthless grin on her face. I leaned back involuntarily, sucking in a breath. "Last thing we needed, elves camped out here after they'd killed us, waiting for us to come back. Fake site's a hundred miles or so that way, in Ho Chi Minh. Minute we leave here, you'll find you forget where it is. I only knew where it was because I went looking for you."

I groaned, feeling sick. "And the blackness?" I pointed to it.

Newt's eyes flicked over in that direction, then dismissed it. "How's your aura? Ready to travel yet?" She examined me, black-on-black eyes slitted. "Hmm. Not quite yet. There's a bright side to all this," Newt said, though her tone wasn't bright in the least. "You're one of us now. That was the whole point, obviously. Sink or swim with us. You've got to fix the Ever After now, or you'll die with us when the Collective gets sucked into oblivion."

I bit my lip before I screamed at her, taking several deep breaths, forgetting all about my unanswered question. "That's not fair. You could have trusted me. I'd have done what I could, for Ash's sake if not the rest of you." _I liked you. I was starting to trust you_, I added silently, stung with disappointment.

Newt smiled, eyes tired and cold and not quite meeting mine. "Oh,_ I_ knew that," she said quietly, and I had the sense she was responding to my unsaid words. "But the others didn't believe me. And Ash wouldn't cooperate with them, not even to save us all. Said he'd kill you first. Then when you rejected him, Dali pounced."

Dali. Why did the thought of him make me want to growl and slash someone's throat out? Something painful involving children—

"You know, I really think your Ash might have done it — he might have let you go. Forsaken love for the sake of your soul. But now he's gone and done the unforgivable. I told him he couldn't win. Either way, he'd lose you. There are no happy endings here, not in the Ever After. Poor sweet thing. Always such a romantic." She patted my hand, and I snicked it back in irritation. She was back to being condescending, and I was getting irked. "It's for the best. Dali will be better for you in the long run anyway."

I just stared at her, unable to formulate a response, then nearly jumped out of my skin when Dali spoke behind me. "Indeed. The coddling and pampering would cease, for one thing."

I turned. Ash was there now, with Al and Dali. Yay, just what I needed for my imminent breakdown: three more angry demons glaring at me. Dali looked gravely pissed off. Al's nonchalant pose was stiff, eyes hidden as always behind his smoked glasses. And Ash—

The look on Ash's face nearly made me dive behind Newt for cover.

"Oh, don't be like that," Newt said, smiling serenely. "You're just touchy because I don't show up for _you_ anymore. And anyway, a girl's first time is _special_." She patted my hand again, and I was even more vigorous in pulling it away this time.

Ash's eyes went to the necklace, and his eyes narrowed. "You gave it to her, didn't you?" His lip curled into a humorless half-smile at my shrug. "Don't blame you."

Newt rose and slid her arm through Dali's, as if to go on a stroll, but I saw Dali wince. Was she holding him back for my benefit? He still looked mad enough to bite nails. "You're all back early," she said. "How'd it go?"

Dali was still glaring at me. "Broke all the new witch protections, but didn't even get a crack at the wild magic. Had the little princess here not died—"

"Oh, now don't be too angry at Yvette. It's all _your _fault," she added, elbowing the Dali in the side hard enough to make him wheeze with surprise. "All of you. _You_ left her alone, shackled and unprotected. What was she supposed to do against Zaebos in that state? Why didn't you leave her with _me_?"

I started again, though I couldn't tear my gaze away from Ash. Zaebos had murdered me? Oh, hell, this just got better and better. "Are you sure it was him?" I asked, but another image rose unbidden to my mind. Zaebos, face livid, whirling on me. Black staff, striking me. Then… nothing.

"Oh, yes. Tortured you a bit first. His face was the last thing you saw, before the flames consumed those pretty eyes."

"Newt—" Dali began, but Newt held up her string of beads, and Dali recoiled, tearing himself free and backing off a step rather than let them touch his skin.

Newt cackled. "_I_ wasn't afraid — _I_ took a sip to see. Anyone else doubt my word? Take a look for yourselves!" Ash and Al also took a step away as she waved the pearls in their direction, and Newt cackled again. "Cowards."

I felt too heartsick and shocked to have anything sensible or coherent to add at this point. I remained sitting on the crusted red earth, grit in my hair, and tried like mad NOT to imagine what those last moments would have been like.

"How the hell did he find her?" Ash demanded.

"I'm sure she'll recall it all for you soon. In the meantime, out with the rest of it! Surely a little thing like a soul-siphoning wouldn't have held you all helpless for more than a second or two!" She didn't say it, but we all heard the distinct _Do I have to do everything around here?_ in her tone.

"We were ambushed by our familiars, and also by the Coven's leader, Oliver." Al had conjured a jaunty looking walking stick and was swinging it casually, clearly ready to employ it as a bludgeon if this conversation got messy, or those beads came his way again.

"You were thwarted by four little witches? Men. Should've taken me with you."

_Hah! Dali trusts her even less than he trusts you._ I jumped to hear Ash's voice in my head again, but when I tried to glom onto him, he slipped out and was gone once more.

"Four _Coven-trained_ witches," Dali said, voice cold.

"I did warn you that they were getting stronger, all thosecenturies ago. Not my fault you deniers took this long to listen." Newt was putting a tidy little knot on her… necklace… holding the new little pearl in place.

"Do you not think it a convenient coincidence," Al said over Dali's open snarl, "that Oliver managed to arrive and attack us just at our moment of distraction? The_ precise_ moment we could be easily encircled?"

Dali ripped his baleful gaze from Newt, letting it snag for a moment on me before turning it on Al. "You believe one of our familiars told him?"

"Merely throwing it out there." Al shrugged. "I dislike coincidences. Who else might benefit from tearing Coven protections away from the nexus?"

"Elves," Dali growled, then cocked his head. "No, that doesn't make sense."

"Perhaps the Coven themselves," Newt suggested casually, as the rope of little deaths vanished again from her hands.

Al tilted his head, considering. "Surely not. Oliver alone couldn't possibly hope to control the nexus. All six of them together, perhaps, could do some damage, but not one half-insane man on his own."

"Vivian's still out there. And what about Adrian and Pierce and Brooke?" I asked, heart pounding suddenly. They weren't here. Where were the witches? Why weren't they here with their demons? "That's five; they only need one more for a full Coven again."

Ash beat the others in his reply. "Oliver banished us, but not the other witches. Given the state of his mind lately… there's a strong possibility the others are dead now, Evie."

Dali glanced from me to Ash, lip curling. Al only looked up slightly, but I had the distinct impression he was rolling his eyes behind his glasses. "Until it is verified," Dali said, "we must assume that there are at least four Coven witches left alive, who have no love for us and could easily be persuaded to sacrifice the ley lines to destroy us utterly. Can four Coven members hope to control the nexus, with the three of us in active opposition?"

"Two of them know how to spindle," Ash murmured. "They could teach the others."

There was a long silence as the demons considered this. _Shouldn't we get them back?_ I nearly said, then realized I'd be advocating the recapture of three witches who'd just escaped demon slavery and might still be alive. I closed my mouth quickly. Al groaned faintly, muttering something about Uncommon Stupidity. Something he'd said was still nagging at my mind.

"Aw, don't fret, Gally. Dali lost his familiar too," Newt said, her grin tight and smug. "He simply hates getting sunburnt."

"Enough from you, woman!" Dali growled.

"Al," I said softly, remembering what he'd said earlier. "If it wasn't a coincidence, then someone must have told Oliver you were there. And maybe that means someone told Oliver exactly when you would be distracted by this soul-sucking thing. That someone would have had to know the exact moment I would be killed, then. Is that what you're implying?"

Al took off his glasses and contemplated me. "I was implying nothing of the sort, but now that you mention it…"

"Zaebos." Dali sounded condescending rather than convinced. "You're saying Zaebos knew we'd be there, and sent a Coven leader after us? Preposterous. Even if you were correct, how would Zaebos know what we were…" He trailed off, eyes narrowed and then fixing on me. I fought not to quail.

Oh. Right. I'd been tortured. Probably had sung like a lark. Weak, stupid Evie, that's what his eyes said.

Ash groaned again. "Her mind was unprotected while we were shielded. He could easily have learned anything he wanted from her."

"But there's no way Oliver would listen to Zee. Oliver freaks out any time demons are mentioned. He's scared to death of you all. He's even worse lately."

"Why?" Newt asked. "Why's he so worried lately? What's changed?" None of us could answer her. "If anything, he's got to be worried about the imminent demise of the Ever After, which would mean disaster for magic users. But at least the world will be safe from the likes of us." She indicated our little group with a wave of her hand.

"Maybe that's why he's worried — he knows that if demons are going to save themselves, now's the time they have to regain entry to the nexus," I suggested. "But that's not really the theme of his fears, though — I mean, he really has it in for Rachel and I, and anyone helping us. He's desperate to keep the Rosewood secret, and to keep witches from trying demon magic. I don't think he was really worried about _you _guys at all — at least, not until today."

Newt shifted. "Hmm. Maybe Oliver buys the theory that only the uncursed can enter the nexus. It's a good one."

"That theory is garbage," Dali growled. "Only witches can enter, until the wild magic is dispelled. Your own creation tested it, and failed."

"No, he only_ said_ he failed. There's a difference," Newt replied serenely.

"He failed, or he'd have fucked with it just to spite us all," Ash said. "Seriously, how much more proof do you tinhats need?"

Newt eyed me, her expression put-upon. "You see, Yvette? Why do I bother trying to tell them anything? Nobody ever listens to me."

"I'm listening, Newt. What's your theory?"

"This is pointless. I'm leaving. I must think on this, and come up with a new strategy." Dali's cold lizard gaze slid over me briefly, then dismissed me. "We'll talk again soon, Yvette, to settle our debt," he said, more threat than promise, and vanished. _Debt? Oh, that's just lovely._

Newt ignored Dali's departure completely. "Two thousand years ago, the elves finally overwhelmed us and took the nexus. Nobody's sure what curse our last defenders used, because the elves slaughtered them all, but if I were one of them,_ I'd _have tied it to the curse we laid on the elves to destroy their DNA. Layering them would've made each more effective, because it limits the scope, you see?"

I didn't see, not then. I looked at Ash and Al, but both of them had that look men get when they're being indulgent, but don't believe a word of it. I could see why Newt was sick of trying to convince anyone around here of anything at this point.

"Then there's the wild magic the elves laid on the place, layered over our curse. Whatever they cast keeps demonkind from entering, but not our stunted children. But wild magic always has a loophole. Wouldn't it be funny if they told their goddess to keep their accursed enemies out of the nexus, and their goddess took them literally?"

_Their accursed enemies._ I thought about this for a few moments. _ Accursed enemies, but not their stunted children._ "So if someone _wasn't _an enemy of the elves, he could enter?" I blinked. "Or if a demon wasn't_ cursed by the elves_, he could enter?" She smiled happily and nodded, and encouraged, I made the next logical leap. "So you and Zee and the others in that…" I tried to recall the word Ash had used, and failed, "…your secret group made Ku'Sox, and tried to send him in? What happened?"

"He said the wild magic turned him away too."

"…and he's sooo trustworthy that everyone believed him…?" I said with a sidelong glance at Ash and Al, unable to believe this.

"As I said, he'd have screwed with us if he could get in," Ash said. "It was an idiotic decision to even let him try."

Newt shrugged. "I don't remember a lot from those days. It all got pretty bad. What he said he saw there convinced me to kill a lot of people. Clever, devious little brat." Newt looked at me thoughtfully. "You should try going in. You and Rachel. And… Hope." She blinked her eyes several times, gaze fixed sightlessly on the black patch in the distance. "Hope. Of course. That's why we made her. How silly of me to forget."

There was a very long, pregnant pause, as two male demons fought not to laugh, and I tried to come up with a single thing to say.

"What?" Newt asked, genuinely baffled at our expressions.

Ash and Al lost it, and their merry guffaws echoed across the grim expanse of the blasted surface. I closed my mouth before I inhaled any more of the foul dust and spluttered to expel what had just blown in. I wanted to laugh, cry, scream, and blow up things all at once, and settled for rubbing my eyes in an effort to hide my emotions from my face. Ash and Al might be comfortable laughing at Newt, but I sure wasn't.

"Newt," I said, still hiding most of my face in my hands, voice only barely cracking now, "Can you say that again? About why you and Zee made Hope?"

Newt blinked. "Huh?"

_Oh my God. All this time. You knew all this time. All the shit I went through, the deals with Dali and Brooke, the threats, bargaining with the souls of my friends, and you knew this entire time_? I tried to ignore the litany of outrage and focus on the relevant part — Newt certainly hadn't done it maliciously. She seemed as confused at her sudden attack of memory as I was at hearing about it. "You and Zee. Made the deal with the elves. To make a healthy uncursed demon girl, so she could try getting past the wild magic to enter the nexus."

"Did we?" Newt cocked her head, thinking, and her shoulders slumped. "What a fool's dream. There's no way to get past the elven curse. We tried for so long. Ku'Sox probably wasn't lying when he said he couldn't get through. I think Ku'Sox carries the taint of it, even now. No, the only ones who can undo the curse are the elves themselves, and never will they relent..."

"But they did," I said, seeing that Newt's grasp on reality was starting to slip. "Zee made a deal with them, remember?"

"Did he?" Newt's expression went vague, as if too many thoughts were crowding in at once, and she was losing interest in the conversation. She waved a hand irritably. "Ask Minias, he'll know. He always knows everything."

Ash sobered up at that, and Al, too, lost his grin. "Ah, Minias is dead, love," Al said, voice carefully neutral.

Newt's head shot up, and I flinched at the look on her face. It was slack with confusion, and worse, a total lack of recognition as she blinked at me, then around at the blank, unfamiliar landscape.

"I think Newt should be getting home now," Ash said to me.

"But…" We'd just made a major breakthrough here! "We need to discuss this!"

"And we should be getting home as well," Ash said over my voice. _She's losing it, and she might become dangerous_, he added mentally. _We'll finish this conversation later. _"We have other matters to discuss first."

_But Ash—_

"Yes, you do," Al said. He gave Ash a significant look over his glasses. "You take my advice, and you tell her everything."

"I am _through _taking advice from you or anyone else!" Ash's voice was slow and deliberate. The sullen fury he'd worn when he'd shown up had returned, blanching the expression from his features. The cold mask was back, and I groaned inwardly. Great. It'd be one of_ those _conversations.

Newt scuffed the ground with her sandaled foot, looking diminished. She grimaced with disgust. "Why am I out here? Take me home, Gally," she ordered.

Gingerly, as if offering his arm to a tiger rather than a woman, Al offered Newt his arm, and they vanished.

I stood up and dusted myself off, still weak and shaky. In a silent testimony of how resurrection could rattle a demon, I hadn't even realized until this moment that I'd been still sprawled in the dust for this entire conversation, with demons looming over me impatiently waiting for me to pull it together. At least Newt's revelation had distracted me from the imminent panic attack, though Ash seemed likely to send me off into another one in a moment. I just waited, and he obliged, grabbing my arm roughly and transporting us back to his rooms.

We landed somewhere pitch black and cold, but Ash lit the globes, filling the room with the usual eerie, eldritch light. I stared at the ruins about me, bewildered. Ash had brought me to what I called his "trophy" room.

Weeks ago… it seemed like years, now… this room had been opulent, sumptuous, representing Ash's high status and decadent life. He'd brought me here to gloat the night he'd kidnapped me, or perhaps to impress me. He had seduced me here, then tried to murder me. Now, it was devastated. Antiques, art… the accumulated wealth and extravagance of millennia, destroyed, blackened, burnt and shattered. The stench of demon magic was still heavy in the air, mingled with the stink of singed hair and decay.

I turned to Ash, waiting, the lump in my throat pushing out any words that I might have said. I'd done this to him. I'd come here, turned his life upside down, destroyed his illusions and decimated even his own self-confidence. Had he destroyed his possessions because the court had given them to me? Or had it been simple blind rage when he awoke on the surface to find himself, as he thought then, abandoned by me? Our torrid affair had begun here, the night he'd ripped me from my life and claimed me as his. Would it end here, right now?

"Adrian is dead," Ash said without preamble, face as blank as I'd ever seen it. "I killed him."


	3. A Matter of Life and Death

_Sorry, Adrian. Of course you didn't deserve this._

**In Which Ash Bares All**

My mouth dropped open. This was about the last thing I'd expected Ash to say. I just gaped at him. He didn't sound sorry, or upset, or anything. No gloating, no satisfaction, just saying it because it had to be said. I swallowed, heart thudding in my chest. In the silence, I could hear it, hear the blood sloshing almost painfully through my veins. This was going to hurt. This was going to rip me apart. I would almost rather taste my own death than hear what Ash had to say, but I wouldn't stop him. I had to know. "Why?"

"I needed a sacrifice. Resurrection's not free, Evie. For you to live, another had to die."

Ice water cascaded over my soul. For a long moment I just stood there, processing this. It was perfectly clear, all of a sudden. Newt and Dali had inducted me into the Collective. Ash had completed the process when I'd died, choosing Adrian to die in my place.

Ash let me stew, silent in the darkness. Give the man credit for not excusing or justifying himself. Perhaps he knew there was nothing more to be said. He'd crossed the line, a moral event horizon I couldn't follow. I wasn't sure our relationship would survive this, and he had to know it.

Eventually I croaked out, "Tell me what happened."

"We had just made our move, freezing the witches so that we might dismantle the Coven—"

"Ash, did Adrian know what you were planning?" I asked quickly. I hadn't wanted to know what Ash had said to convince Adrian to come along before, but suddenly I had to know whether Adrian had died thinking I'd betrayed him.

"Yes." Ash breathed deeply, though I couldn't discern whether it was a sigh or a rasp of frustration. "I suspect he managed to tell the other two witches, even with the close eye I kept on him. I should have kept it from him."

I blinked, shocked. "You think Adrian… _told_ them?"

"It's likely. Though it's also possible that Pierce or Brooke guessed our true intentions. The three of them attacked us when we were momentarily incapacitated by your resurrection. We underestimated them."

Now I was dismayed for an entirely new reason. "Adrian _attacked_ you?"

Ash hesitated, and I saw his decision of whether or not to lie about this… without knowing which way he decided. "Yes."

"Are you lying, Ash? Because if you lie to me about something like this—"

"I'm not lying." His voice was bitter as he added, "Shall I get the truth amulet again, _Saenat_?"

"No," I said, swallowing against the lump in my throat. If I couldn't trust Ash, who was left? "Just tell me what happened."

"There's nothing else. We nearly broke the Coven. You died. We were banished when Oliver showed up and circled us. We took out the shunnings, but failed in our main goal."

My accommodating brain played back bits of the conversation Ash and I had had, about whether or not to tell Adrian about our plans, where I'd insisted he had the right to make his own decisions, even if it broke him in the end… _Adrian, I'm so sorry. I got you into this, put you into this position where you were forced to betray either the Coven or Ash and myself. I should have let Ash lie to you. I should have sent you away at the beginning, before you could be roped into that idiotic deal. I shouldn't have let you help me._ After another long pause, during which I readjusted my worldview yet again to accommodate Adrian possibly not being the friend I'd thought he was, I finally cleared my throat long enough to ask, "Was that why you killed him? Because he betrayed you?"

Ash took another deep breath before replying, "No. His fate was sealed the day Newt and Dali inducted you into the Collective."

"The curses you two put on me?" I asked, and Ash nodded in confirmation. _Goddamnit._ Ash had cast two curses on me, with Adrian's assistance. No doubt one of them must have been the one that went off today, killing my friend so I could live. No wonder Ash wouldn't tell me what the curses were — hell, no wonder he hadn't been honest with _Adrian _about what the curses were! I glared at him, furious in my grief. "He hadn't betrayed you _then_! He trusted you! There was nothing in your deals about him_ dying_ for me!"

"No," Ash agreed, voice quiet. If he'd just smirk, or gloat, or lash out in return, I'd know what to do. But he wasn't even raising rhetorical fists in defense.

"Then you broke your agreement with him!" I protested.

"No. In his original bargain he agreed his soul would be forfeit if he could have prevented an injury to you—"

"He never hurt me! He saved my idiot life!"

"I might have been able to contain you, that day, after Al failed. But when Adrian used a powerful _earth amulet_ to draw out your power, it drew the attention of the Collective, sealing your fate. You were judged too dangerous to train, so you'd be neutralized — stripped of your mind and sent to the surface where your soul could strengthen us." Ash took a step closer, voice clipped and fervent. "I was_ this close_ to killing him then, Evie. You have no idea. I spared him for _your _sake, but from that moment on I had _every right_ to his body and soul."

I gasped, outraged anew. "He said you took the mark off. He said you agreed he'd saved my life!"

Ash's face was still shadowed, but I could see the curl of his lip. "I lied."

Of course he had. Damn it, in watching all their interactions afterward, I had believed that Ash might have felt an ounce of respect for the witch who'd bargained so bravely with him, who was trying to change things between demon and witchkind. But of course it was an act. "He trusted you."

"He did. He quickened the curse with his own blood, willingly given, believing all the while it was a spell to redirect the damage from a death curse from you to myself."

How Ash managed such a steady voice was beyond me, and I suddenly suspected why — he'd taken the curse again, hadn't he? The one that prevented guilt, regret, remorse. The one_ I'd_ told him to take. God, it couldn't have hurt more if he'd whipped out the claws and dug them into my heart, twisting them in deep. "You don't care, do you?"

There was a long pause. Ash raised his head to meet my eyes. Though the rest of his face was blank, his fervent glare was anything but. "No. I'd kill a thousand witches to keep you alive, _Saenat_. He didn't matter."

"He mattered to _me_!" I shouted, guilt and grief choking my voice. How was I going to live with myself? Hell, how was I going to live with _him_? "Was that why, Ash? Was that why you chose him? Because I _liked_ him? Because you were jealous of a fucking _kiss_?"

Ash clenched a fist, but was otherwise motionless. "I could say yes, but the truth is… he was available." I could hear the truth in his voice. So cold, so devastatingly devoid of lies. Was this even the same demon? "He was willing. Willingness makes the curse far more potent." Ash paused, then added. "The choice, ultimately, was between Adrian and Solange." Had he flinched, when I gasped just now? "I chose Adrian."

"But I_ freed_ Solange," I said. "She's supposed to be beyond your reach!"

"You _sold_ her to Ceri. You never emancipated her. We were still connected. Had I wished, I could have retrieved her at any time. Or ended her, as I should have. I didn't, for… your sake." But I'd caught it, that slight hesitation. Ash might not have loved Solange, but he wouldn't be the first demon to feel at least a little affection for a long-time familiar. "It doesn't matter now. _You_ matter."

"Yeah, so I can save all your asses—"

Ash's voice was so very quiet. "You matter to _me_."

So much anger was warring with so much confusion, and grief. I was alive because Adrian was dead. Ash had killed a man so I could live. Did "survivor's guilt" even begin to cover what I was feeling? My life had _ended_, abruptly and brutally, at the hands of a depraved, psychotic demon. My mission would have failed. My story would have been over, but for Ash, who'd used the blackest of magic to save me. I couldn't believe I was being so reasonable about this, when all I wanted to do was explode. But where would that lead? I could kill him, or myself, again — and we'd just wake up, cold and bewildered, endlessly. Either I came to some understanding with him now, or… what was the other possibility? Was there one? Could I possibly make this right? "Ash… about Adrian. Can you… can we…?"

"No. He was a sacrifice. He can't be resurrected."

I eyed Ash hard, but he had been deeply, harshly, bitingly truthful until now and I had no reason to doubt this was true as well. Once again the anger welled up, tempered by the fact that I could see it all from his point of view, and if his endgame had been to keep me safe and alive, then of course he couldn't have told me what it would cost. It all made such demonic logical sense. And what would I have done if I'd known about it? Probably not a damned thing — I was already doomed to be a cog in the Collective machine. What would have happened if Ash hadn't fought for me? I'd be wandering the surface with Tezrian and countless others, mindless and suffering. And what would have happened if I'd never been inducted into the Collective, and events had gone down the exact same way?

Then I'd be dead now, with Hope and Lucy still in danger, the elves on the verge of war with the witches and everyone in the Ever After soon to die thanks to two new ley lines and a friggin' black hole. Would that have been better? Was that truly what I wanted?

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered, because my voice was gone.

Ash took a step closer to me, eyes black holes in the dim room, face shadowed. Every line of him was as tense as I felt. "What could I have said, _Saenat_?"

I had no answer to that. I looked down and away, shame warring with fury. This was so horribly unfair and wrong, and I had no answers. Ultimately, I supposed the blame could be placed on me, for not quietly training enough to get my powers under control, to the point where the Collective had judged me too unsafe to keep intact. It's not like Ash had the choice, after that. The man had done what was necessary to keep me alive and sane in the aftermath. I'd never been given a choice.

No, that wasn't right. I had. "What was the second curse?" I asked suddenly. There'd been two. What was the second one, the one Adrian said would trigger if I'd chosen to ditch my demon nature and leave Ash? I couldn't have left him at that point — I was already part of the Collective. When he didn't reply, I took a step closer to him, and damn it if he didn't flinch and retreat a step.

"Don't," he said, voice quiet. He was as close to pleading as I'd ever heard him. "Leave it at this. Be content."

"Ash, what would have happened if I'd said no to you, that day?" I insisted, merciless. If he didn't want me to hear the rest, then I damn well _needed_ to hear it.

Ash shifted weight again, clenching and unclenching his hands, but when he spoke, his voice was still monotone. After a few false starts, he said, "I might have killed you."

"But I was already in the Collective," I said, too confused to be angry or even surprised. "You said Newt and Dali had already brought me in."

"It was to undo what Newt and Dali did. You weren't fully… trapped, not yet. Your membership isn't quite complete until you've damned yourself by sending another to death's embrace in your stead. Newt discovered an out, though it was too late for her."

My heart started pounding again, bringing nausea with it.

"I didn't have much to bargain with, but I won her over… in the end." Ash's voice was nearly inaudible. "It's the curse she gave Al. For Celfnnah." His face was still shadowed, but it didn't matter. I knew his expression — blank, serene, perhaps with that small smile he used when doling out pain. "Newt's curse would rip you out of the Collective, killing you. There's no other way out but death, not once you're so far in."

"You mean… you mean to say you stuck a _kill switch_ on me? And you had your finger on the switch _all this time_?" I boggled at him. The logic of it all started to make sense. He couldn't prevent Newt and Dali from sucking me into the Collective, but he could kill me before I was fully immortal. To spare me the grim eternity.

"_Kill switch_." Ash tasted the term, amused. "Heh. Yes, I suppose you could call it that. Newt knows another curse, obviously — the one that she uses to kill her familiars, but she's not sharing that one. _This_ one only works if you invoke it before the victim's first death."

_Before you've damned yourself by sending another to death's embrace in your stead._ Now the grim reality hit me. I swallowed, blinking rapidly as I glanced back up at him. Holy shit. "You didn't invoke it," I said.

"I told myself I could protect you, that you need never die, and I would never have to make the decision. And you chose me. I thought…" Rather than continue that sentence, Ash's voice switched abruptly to frustrated anger. "How the hell did Zaebos find you? I thought you'd be _safe _with Ceri and Solange! Zee had no fucking reason to go there!"

The answer welled up from my memory, as if it had always been there despite the blank there'd been minutes before. "Rachel ran there to escape Zee. She brought the baby with her. He followed her." My voice was barely audible, choked as it was with tears.

"I _knew_ if Zaebos discovered what you did with his children, he'd kill you. Fucking Dali. I should have insisted you come with us, but I feared the nexus would damage your mind, since you have no gargoyle to parse the sensations for you."

"I got one," I murmured. Crescendo must have watched Zee murder me. Would he know I was alive? Surely he would. Because didn't bound gargoyles die when their demons did? Did Ash save his life too, by killing Adrian? "He's with Rachel, at Trent's."

Ash grunted at the one bright point in the conversation. "I'll send Cadenza to fetch him."

"Tell her to be nice," I said tonelessly. "He just watched me die."

Ash swore. "I felt you die. We all did. There was a brief moment where I could have invoked Newt's curse, and let you go freely into death. But I… hesitated and Oliver—" He took a shuddering breath, looking down at the floor, then turning his unseeing gaze to the ruination of his life around us. "No. No more lies. I _chose_ not to." Ash's voice finally cracked. "I couldn't let you go. I know I should have. I couldn't do it. I chose to kill the witch instead. Newt was right."

He fell silent, leaving the rest unsaid. I stared at him, still unable to speak. My mind was reeling, processing, fitting everything together. An innocent man had died so that I would live, tied forever to Ash and the rest of his damned kin. Newt's words made more sense now. _Either way, he'd lose you. There are no happy endings in the Ever After. _A look at Ash's face reaffirmed that the Ever After truly was hell. I shuddered, suppressing a small sob. To be loved by a demon was itself damnation — for to truly love something is to let it go, and Ash had failed the test, and killed to keep me alive. The undercurrents flowing in this room, all the things he was leaving unsaid, held me in place even as they threatened to drown me. He couldn't let me go. This wasn't simple murder. Nothing in my life was simple.

Time dripped slowly by, as I breathed and Ash waited, knowing that what I did and said in the next few minutes would affect the rest of my life… which, if Ash was right, was going to be very, very long indeed.

"You should have told me," I managed finally.

He snorted without amusement. Enough said.

"What would've happened that day, when you gave me the choice to live with you or give it all up? You'd really have killed me if I'd chosen not to stay with you?" How messed up was that sentence? Not for the sentiment, which had been uttered by many over the centuries, but the fact that in this case, Ash considered killing me to be the kinder choice.

"I… I like to think I would have had the courage then to release you. I was angry enough at the Collective to deprive them of their prize."

My brain fought for words. It's not easy hearing that your significant other could've killed you with a thought, even for all the best reasons, after all. But the echo of our previous conversation about life and death came back, and I asked, "Wouldn't everyone in the Collective have been pretty pissed off at you, if you had killed me to spite them?"

Ash smiled his beautiful, masochistic, empty smile. "Indeed." After another pause, he added somewhat reluctantly, "Euthanasia is the only capital crime we have. They'd have sent me to the surface in your place. Permanently."

And there was the icing on the cake, wasn't it? For depriving their Collective of a much-needed soul, the demons would have destroyed Ash's mind in retribution? So we'd both have been dead. Dead together. Romeo and Juliet. Good grief. No wonder he had been hesitant to tell me this part. Still… facts rearranged themselves again, settling into yet another image in this moral kaleidoscope. "You… you_ were_ willing to die for me."

Ash made a low rumble of pain, or perhaps humiliation. "Obviously not, in the end," he said, though his derisive tone was directed at himself more than me. "I couldn't do it."

And the pieces whirled again, resettled. "And you think I'll be disappointed in you for that?" I asked, anger fading as bewilderment rose. "Ash… you know I didn't like that idea in the first place." Realization then struck me over the head, and my mouth dropped open in horror. "Once Newt and Dali inducted me into the Collective, someone was going to die when I did. No matter what else happened. So in the end… it was a choice between you and… Adrian."

Ash said nothing as I sat down, letting me get a handle on it all. Adrian was an innocent man, and Ash was an unrepentant murderer who had lived millennia beyond his time. Adrian was my friend, and Ash was my lover. Logically, I knew what _should _have happened. My heart pulled me in the other direction, down a dark road of good intentions that I was loath to admit even existed in my soul. It was the road that allowed good men to commit atrocities when guns were at the heads of their families, that forced mothers to choose which children would live in times of famine. My stomach curled and tears once again welled in my eyes. "Shouldn't have been Adrian," I said. "He was a good man."

Fortunately Ash didn't misinterpret this statement as he could have, perhaps hearing the first step toward acceptance in my voice. "And who should I have chosen instead_, Saenat_?"

The nausea grew worse. Solange? Never. Some unfortunate, nameless person whose face I'd never have to see? Perhaps a convicted felon, someone who deserved to die? Black magic — not just the smut-creating kind, but the kind that demands the highest sacrifice of all — is still black, no matter how justified. I growled with frustration, bent down to pick up a chunk of carved stone, and hurled it at the wall, using every ounce of my demon strength. It whistled through the air, embedding itself into the masonry, smoking faintly. I had a good idea why he'd brought me to this room. I could rant and rage and hurl shit to my heart's content here, and he just sat there with the air of a boulder in a storm, ready to take whatever I felt like dishing out. Knowing that he wouldn't fight back took the wind out of my sails, and I fell into a storm of frustrated tears instead. "How can I live with this, Ash?" I choked out finally. "How can I live, knowing I've stolen someone's life?"

"You just… do," Ash said. "Part of you already has."

"No." But he was right. Therese was glad to be alive. Inside me, she howled in triumph at having cheated death. She howled for vengeance against Zee. She could reckon the worth of lives, and judged this sacrifice worth it. Horrified, I cut off that line of thinking, shaking my head in negation. "You should have told me! I should have been given a say in the matter!"

Ash, motionless and wary, towered over me. "I should have," he agreed. He hesitated on the cusp of saying more, but decided against it.

"What?" I demanded. Oh, God, there was _more_? "Just tell me, Ash."

Ash closed his eyes, then opened them again, surrendering. He sat down beside me, rather heavily, as if he were at the end of his strength. He shook his head, gazing at unseen thoughts in the dimness around us. "Choice. You're obsessed with choice. Most are content to live without responsibility. They whine and pout and fuss, but are secretly happy to have others make the difficult choices for them. But not you. You must always have knowledge, and choice. You must know that it's still only an illusion, that you will never fully have control over all aspects of your life."

"I don't need control over_ all _aspects, Ash. Just the important ones. I'd say this is pretty fucking important."

"And yet you created Therese," he said. "The ultimate evasion of responsibility. A monster within, to which you attribute your darkest decisions of dubious morality. You did not kill the elf; Therese made the decision. You did not desire me all those years, despite knowing who and what I am; it is your demon half, some amoral parasite living in your mind, an infernal whisperer on your shoulder that pushes you toward me. Evie is a good person. Therese is your bestial id, to be locked away and denied, and only allowed out when circumstances require a choice that cannot be reconciled with your angelic Evie's morality."

I wiped my face and shuddered, feeling the justice of this accusation. How could I deny it?

"You will never be whole until you accept her, Evie." Ash still wasn't looking at me. "And you'll never be fully mine, either. If you cannot accept darkness in yourself, how can I ever believe you will truly accept me?"

I stared at him, sniffling most inelegantly, as I considered this. I wanted to tell him that I did — I could accept him… but that would be a lie. Obviously. Particularly given this whole conversation and how badly I was reacting to Ash acting, well, demonically. It made me wonder again why, exactly, I loved him. It wasn't just Therese, was it? But of course there was no Therese. He wasn't saying anything I didn't already know — Al and I had discussed Therese endlessly, what she was and what she meant. But it wasn't truly salient until this moment, what it meant to really accept Therese, and why it was absolutely necessary if I wanted to spend my life at Ash's side.

Emotion spent, logic was kicking in again, and I knew that I would recover from this. I would live with it. Whether I accepted it, accepted Ash, accepted myself was another story. I could easily see me working to punish myself over simply being alive when my friend was dead. Particularly when Ash pulled the chair out from under the last of my illusions.

"I did give you a choice."

"You said you—"

"I said I couldn't kill you. A half-truth. I couldn't kill you without being absolutely certain that was what you wanted."

"I don't remember that."

"You won't remember, not unless you get that pearl back from Newt, which I frankly don't recommend. Do you understand me, Evie? In your darkest hour, I gave you the fucking choice, and I told you exactly what the consequences would be."

_No. No, no, no don't say it please Ash if you have any love for me don't tell me I…_

But my merciless demon leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I gave you the choice, Evie. _You chose to live."_


	4. A Matter of Perspective

**In Which Old Certainties are Reexamined**

I must have sat there, shaking my head in denial, hands over my mouth holding in the scream for at least a minute. Strange, that for all the legends of demons happily leading mortals down the path to damnation, and even though I knew Ash was a liar and a master manipulator… it never once occurred to me to doubt him. Because deep down, somewhere, I knew he was right. Having laid it out in bare, stark terms, if it was a choice between Ash's life and someone else's, I'd have chosen Ash. I thought over his words, each step in the narrative carefully calculated to sound like the full story, only giving me fuller details when I'd grilled him. Ash's usual; lying by omission. Allowing me the opportunity not to know, if I so chose. Delivering the brutal truth about Therese in my darkest hour. It brought back to mind another saying about demons, that they only lied unless the truth would hurt you more.

Ash hadn't killed a man to save me.

_I _had.

I shivered. It was cold here, in this dark and dusty room littered with the broken acquisitions of ill-spent millennia. I'd crossed the line. I wasn't sure I could forgive myself. Simply pulling in all the spiritual energy I'd need to rebuild my shattered self-conceit was an effort quite beyond me at the moment. It was enough to sit here and try to keep on breathing. Ash remained sitting beside me, no expression on his face except calm, blank patience. But for once he seemed willing to answer my questions. So it was time to ask as many as I could.

"Is this why holy ground rejects me now? Because I killed someone?" I asked finally. It was a nonsensical question for many reasons (given that I had killed the nurse in the holy hospital chapel itself without immediate divine consequence, not to mention been dragged by Nick into a sanctified church a few days later), but I wasn't entirely rational at the moment.

"No. Good chunk of your soul's stored in the Collective, now. Holy ground is simply a charm that rejects anything without a complete soul."

I digested this. That must be why the soulless undead were rejected as well; not by design but simply a side effect. And why Rachel was still accepted, even in her church. "What about Ku'Sox?" I asked.

"He's… a special case. Hard to explain what he is, but he has… the equivalent of a soul. Or rather, several partial souls." At my questioning look, he grimaced. "Newt and her buddies never exactly explained how they did it. It was a colossal failure anyway."

I huffed and shivered again. Now that I finally had the opportunity, I was finding it hard to come up with questions. Ash made no move to touch me. I found his stillness disturbing… as if he were far away, observing me from on high. One thing was comforting — there was no judgment or disappointment in his silent observation. Nor, however, was there much in the way of compassion, which was distinctly _not_ comforting. But his next words belied that thought. "If it's any consolation," he offered, "You saved the gargoyle's life as well."

I choked on another sob and buried my head in my hands. I'm sure it would help, in time. Just… not now. I pulled my mind out of its impending downward spiral and asked, "Is that everything? Are there any more terrible, dreadful secrets you've been keeping from me?" He exhaled sharply, the first sign of impatience, and I unthinkingly mumbled an apology.

"No, that's fair," he said, lip tweaking in a mirthless little half-smile. He cocked his head, considering. "Only big one, I suppose. I never told you because I honestly wasn't sure how you'd take it. But given that the whole narrative of your life has just been erased and must be recreated anyway…"

"My what?"

"Your narrative. The story you tell, about yourself? The distorted lens through which you make sense of the world?" He sounded surprised that I didn't get it. "Come on, Yvette. You know there's no absolute truth. Ten people can experience the exact same trauma and each will come away with a different story — some will be victims, some will be heroes. The lies we tell ourselves shape every aspect of our personality."

I blinked at him. This was pretty deep, especially for him. "Example?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't be naive. Very well, I'll keep it simple. In your world, demons are villains. Then you discover you are one. You create Therese, to fulfill the separate role of villain in your own psyche. Your self-image as a good person remains intact."

"Ouch," I said, without rancor. "Ok, I get it. So what's this big secret?"

"Demons are villains. Therefore those who are victims of demons must be undeserving."

I gave him a suspicious side-eye, wondering where he was going with this. Another lame justification of his slave-hunting profession? "Well… yeah." He hissed through his teeth again. I heard him mutter something, caught a faint whiff of burnt amber, and suddenly realized why he seemed so mentally remote. "You're blunting your emotions!" I accused, recognizing the curses I'd been casting by the handful earlier that day.

"Yes," he said impatiently, eyes cold. "If I don't care so much about the consequences, then I don't have to lie."

"What consequences?"

"Losing you," he said, blunt as a board to the head.

I felt like he'd struck me with that board — not in the head, but in the heart. There were so many interpretations of that statement, and I was afraid to look at most of them. "The big secret?" I prompted, past the tight lump in my throat. "Undeserving victims?"

"Shit." Even with the charms, I could see him shift with agitation, rub his neck uncomfortably. "All these years, and you never figured it out. You've been angsting endlessly over the events of that night in the woods, trying to make things right with yourself and your friends. I admit at first I held it back so I could manipulate you down the road. Initially. Then… later… I just didn't know how to fucking tell you. I mean, it's not exactly something that comes up in conversation over the breakfast table…" 

"What's not?" I asked, now fully on guard.

"Your so-called friends, Evie. They were going to give you to me that night. It was _their idea_." Now that got the jaw-dropping, world-rocking response he was looking for, and my stupefied expression seemed to negate the effects of the curses. He caught my chin in his hand to force me to meet his gaze,leaned over and hissed, "Taking _them_ was never the plan. I was after_ you_."

I pulled away, too astonished for pain. I couldn't think of anything to say — why would he bring up that traumatic night _now_? It couldn't be true, could it? "They… you… It was _their _idea?"

"They came to me for cheap, childish reasons. I was their tool as much as they became mine." Ash smiled. "You came for the pure knowledge. You never even asked me for more, just soaked up the magic like a sponge for its own sake, not for petty power plays or to cover a gaping emptiness in your soul. I liked that. It was refreshing."

I glared at him suspiciously. "You're totally bullshitting me. They were just kids."

He smiled his terrible, beatific smile. "You knew they were meeting with me on the sly, yes? Telling me their dirty little secrets about each other…? About themselves…? About _you_?" I flinched, swallowing as I realized what kinds of secrets he might have heard. "I manipulated them, I admit. I goaded them. I whispered sweet poison in their ears. But 'just kids?' Don't delude yourself. They didn't give a damn about you. They sold you to a demon for the equivalent of peanuts." OK, that hurt, and instantly my brain leapt to deny it. He saw it and shook his head in a manner I found condescending. "You believe everyone has the same basic decency and strength of character that you do, and you're _wrong_."

I wanted to deny it, but the events of that summer were flooding back. As if a dam had burst, new details were coming to light that my brain had clearly suppressed. And once again, the world lifted all around me in a kaleidoscope of confusion, the pieces resettling once more into a newer, neater, and far more horribly parsimonious pattern. I grimaced, seeing all the times I'd given them the benefit of the doubt when they'd probably _meant_ to be belittling and insulting. I'd never really been a full group member, just sort of hanging in there, on the outskirts, tolerated because… tolerated because I was the strongest witch. They needed me to hold Ash's circle for them. _Son of a bitch_. Anger and pain flared in my voice as I demanded, "They sold me out? Tell me everything."

"Red was worried you'd tell someone about the time he assaulted you, and I played up his fears."

"He _told _you that!?" Nausea churned with outrage in my gut at the thought that Ash _knew_. The brief encounter, between a shy, bookish girl with a crush and the popular jock, had escalated faster than I'd been prepared for. Red hadn't gotten farther than a good crude groping before I'd wised up, stunned him with a hard jolt to his _chi_, kneed him in the nuts and fled. But the secrecy and shame of it had been deeply buried. I hadn't thought about it in years.

Ash bared his teeth in a sensual grin. "He never gave up hoping for a second chance to… how'd he put it…? Bring your uptight, condescending ass down a peg," he purred. "He sold you to me for an undetectable memory charm. For his future conquests. What, did you think you were the only one?" he added, seeing my expression.

My breath left me in a whoosh. I mean, I'd known Red was a self-important, entitled, misogynistic ass, but it had never occurred to me that he'd have gone after _other _vulnerable women. And _memory _charms? It was almost worse than if he'd gone to Ash for a date-rape drug. And yet I could see it now. It fit his character — the trophy cheerleader girlfriend he'd knocked up and abandoned, the serial infidelities, the constant low-level sexual harassment of Judy and me, delivered with that _I'm only kidding _smile. At the time I'd convinced myself that the assault was a one-time misunderstanding, at least half my fault… and yet I'd made it a point never to be alone with him again. "Judy?" I asked, voice low and furious.

"Ah, yes. Friend Judy was a garden-variety sociopath. She hid her inclinations well, but you saw how she treated the animals. No compassion, no empathy. You were smarter than her. More powerful. More talented. She wanted you _gone_." His voice changed, rising to mimic female tones. "_What will you do with her, Ash? Tell me, tell me how you'll break her…_"

I gaped. I'd always felt uncomfortable around Judy, but when she wasn't on brimstone, she could be sweet and charming, if a bit manipulative. She'd certainly been the Dom with Greg, and later with Toby, using emotional blackmail and sexual favors to twist the boys into doing whatever she wanted. And I remembered the anticipatory satisfaction in her eyes as she'd broken the circle, knowing full well she was screwing me over. Oh, yeah. I'd only let myself be a little deceived about Judy, but I'd always thought that the others were at least… decent. "Greg?"

"Weak. I hardly worked him over at all — Judy did most of it for me. Do you know what I gave him in exchange his cooperation?" Ash leaned forward again. "Not even a _curse_. I taught him how to commune with ley lines. Your spineless friend sold you for a cheap demon _sex trick_." Ash bared his teeth again, cold anger in his eyes. "Why do you think I tortured him so? The more you pleaded so earnestly for his miserable life, the more creative I got."

I had to force my mouth closed. "And Toby?"

Ash sat back, harrumphing. "I thought he'd be the easiest, but he was the last to cave. Judy had to get him hopelessly addicted to_ rikki_ first. _Kalmanhaju_ only blooms in the Ever After, you know." Ash looked reflective. "He did blubber and beg a lot, but he finally went along with it all once he got a taste of _rikki _withdrawl. I suppose I'd give him a pass on the whole betrayal thing — we did railroad him into it, though nobody _forced_ him to inject that shit. I liked him. Got him a decent gig with Rahasiel."

I stared at him, but it was that summer I saw, the behind-the-scenes machinations laid bare. I'm sure my mouth was probably open, expression probably dumbfounded, but he just stared benignly back, waiting for me to process. "What was supposed to happen that night?" I asked.

He raised his eyebrows and shrugged. "I asked if they'd brought what we'd all agreed on. That was _you_. At that point you, being the sacrifice, legally played no part in any deal being made, so the rest was all for show. After I had you, the plan was to play them off each other until they sold each other out. It would have kept me entertained for years, probably, and they'd have pulled in other poor saps to act as their sacrificial goats. A perfect, profitable setup. Until jealous little Judy changed the bargain. I admit it, I got greedy."

"You… got… greedy." Blinking rapidly, I parsed this new knowledge, figuratively rewriting my own history as I sat there. "And I got away."

"I was so pissed off." Ash, totally unrepentant, gave me a wry smile. "I gave Red and Judy to Al. He simply adores breaking the proud ones. I prefer the weak. Al always said I was too soft."

Too _soft_. I blinked at Ash in blatant disbelief that he could be so sanguine about his grim business. But he couldn't be lying — it all fit together so perfectly that my anger was beginning to turn on my own idiot brain for not seeing it all these years. Why hadn't I seen it? Because _someone_ had spun me a different tale. "And when I got away, you put the compulsion on me," I said, growing outrage in my voice. "You made me think it was all _my_ fault so I'd come back to help them! So I'd have to come back to _you_!"

"Obviously," he said. "You can see how it got kind of awkward, later."

"Awkward," I said, voice a growl. "_Awkward?!_" But I couldn't blame it all on Ash. Even without his influence, there was the reaction of everyone else in the community around me. The outpouring of grief for the lost kids had never mentioned their petty cruelties, their vices… only how wonderful they'd been, how sad that their futures were ruined, how undeserving they were of their fate. And I, clearly a demon-summoner, was alone left to tell the tale. Truth amulet testimony and dreadful psychic injuries be damned, I was obviously the villain of the piece who had corrupted perfect angels and destroyed the lives of four families. Then, the final touch: because of me, _my _family had had to leave town to escape the death threats.

"But you resisted the compulsion. And then you finally came back all those years later, and _didn't _negotiate with me. Chatted with me like I was an old friend, called me the center of your universe. It was baffling."

I had to grin smugly at that, then shook my head, rolling my eyes at myself with wry amusement. I'd wanted to show him I was unaffected. I'd totally intended to throw my nonchalance in his face. _See? You didn't hurt me, I'm completely fine. _ThenI'd turned right around and told him he'd gotten in so deep that my life orbited him like a moon. I'd wanted to kick myself for days. Had to be the compulsion talking, right? "So why come clean now?" I asked.

"I wanted to tell you awhile ago, but… you'd already lost so much, and I didn't want to take away the one burning purpose in your life that had kept you going all those years. What might that fellow from that movie…" He looked into the distance, trying to recall the reference. "_You killed my father, prepare to die_?" he quoted hopefully.

"Inigo Montoya?" I said, nonplussed. So Ash _had _seen that one…

"Yes, that's it… what would that fellow have done had he discovered the murder of his father was right and just? All those years pursuing vengeance, only to find it was all a lie?"

I blinked at him, bemused despite the simmering outrage getting ready to boil over. "That's how you see me? Inigo Montoya?" I wasn't sure whether or not I was insulted. I wasn't sure how I felt about just about anything at the moment. It was as if the portion of my soul that could_ feel_ was so utterly overloaded by the events of the last hour that it was left numb and tingly.

He snorted. "A bit more clever, perhaps, but just as much of a drunk at one point." He ducked quickly so my punch smacked him in the shoulder instead of the jaw I was aiming for. He caught my fist and held it in his grip of iron, brushing his lips against the knuckles as I struggled. "You brought such passion to your quest. I almost wanted you to succeed. I thought if I told you… you might just… stop."

"You're not worried about that now?" I asked, feeling adrift in surreality. By taking away the story that I'd told all my life, the reality of my entire world was beginning to fade into eerie quantum uncertainty. He might be right. But I wasn't going to stop, not yet, not when I had other responsibilities.

"I don't _worry_," he said. "I was mildly concerned, not worried. You're resilient. Tell me: will you continue your quest to free your friends?"

I had to think about that one, and Ash stood and paced a little away from me as I thought, clearing out a space in the debris with a wave of his hand and some ley line force. The remains of furniture and decorative tables flew in a cloud of dust to clatter against a wall with a most satisfying crash. Did I want to continue this quest? "I don't know," I said finally, after the sneezing subsided and I could breathe again. I wiped my nose on the sleeve of the shapeless, scratchy woolen garment Newt had dressed me in. "My reasons for doing it are all based on lies."

"They are," he agreed. Another swipe, another clear space, another pile of rubbish against the opposite wall. The floor beneath was soot-blackened, but otherwise undamaged.

"And they were never really my friends," I added, though it hurt to say so. I'd been desperate for friends, back then. Being a pre-Turn witch was socially isolating, to say the least. Being socially awkward and more academically-inclined than the average teen made it so much worse. I'd just wanted to belong. Perhaps that's what drove Toby and Greg, as well, and made us all such easy prey for the Reds and Judys and Ashs of the world.

But then I wondered if I could really count myself so superior, given that I had just betrayed a friend, as well. To save three lives, I'd ended another. The ends justify the means? Was that truly what I believed now? I cocked my head, considering what I truly believed in, now that everything I'd believed about myself and the rest of the world had been shaken and stirred and now floated as debris on a sea of chaos. I wasn't sure. It sure had the ring of anarchy about it.

Practical Evie raised her head. I had other things to worry about. I would make sense of it, somehow. Eventually.

I had forever, after all.

"No, they weren't," Ash agreed, breaking into my reverie. "And they definitely will not thank you, should you free them," he added. "Trust me on that one. Oh, and make a circle." I did so, and he circled himself as well. He spoke a word and motioned with his arms, and like Moses parting the sea, Ash sent the smaller bits — shards of glass, pottery, crystal, ceramic, and layers of stinking dust — fountaining through the air in a multicolored, glittering haze that showered against the two opposite walls and solidified into massive, jagged chunks that looked like concrete.

Yeah, he was probably right. Gratitude wasn't a dependable currency; hadn't I learned that the hard way, many times over? Just look at Red's family, and what they did to me after convincing me to help them. Suing me into the ground after I'd saved their lives. Aiesh. "I don't know," I concluded, trying not to be impressed by Ash's effortless control over the serious magic he was slinging around. I knew the curses he was using, and I'd have made the mess eight times worse trying to do it this way. The reek of burnt amber was strong enough now to make my eyes water. I dropped my circle when he broke his. "I have to think about it."

The brief smile on Ash's face flitted away quickly, but not quickly enough to hide his relief and bemusement. He turned his head away, contemplating the room thoughtfully. He incinerated the larger remains with a fierce and fortunately smokeless curse, leaving more piles of solidified white ash and a strong barbecue scent on top of the stink of demon magic. "You're not even angry?" he asked.

"Hell yes, I'm angry!" I blurted, realizing I was indeed ready to strangle someone. I just wasn't sure _who_, at the moment. Unleashed fury flashed through me at the utter unfairness of the world. I almost reached for the nearest ley lines, and realized with a shock that I was unshackled, and had been ever since my resurrection. Ash must have realized it too, because his expression rapidly turned from amusement to_ oh, shit._ But after a minute or two of breathing heavily and employing a mental exercise for calm, I reined in my rage, though my fingers were still curled into claws. "I'm fine. I'm fine," I said, though I wasn't sure I believed it. "Damn it. I need to break things. But everything here is already freaking broken. Or was. Is that why you brought me to this room?"

Ash grinned. "No, though maybe I should have let you burn off some of that anger and do the sweeping and burning." He indicated the now nearly empty room. "This is all your fault, after all."

"You throwing a temper tantrum because Al tricked you is _not _my fault," I accused, and made no move to help him apart from standing to let him clear out the small patch of undisturbed ash I'd been sitting on.

Ash shrugged, contemplating the mostly cleared room with its piles of debris in the corners. It was a good-sized cavern, the size of a couple of large cathedrals. The walls and floor, though contoured to follow the ebb and flow of the natural cavern, were finished with well-maintained mortared walls with large, smooth bricks that might have been marble. The ceiling had been left irregular, though it had been polished to a glossy sheen, too. The fire was in a central raised bed, and another fireplace big enough to stand in took up a far wall. A heavy door, inlaid with metal and stone with the runes that had probably saved it from destruction, stood closed at the opposite end of the room. Ash gestured and spoke to the remaining blocks of junk and they vanished, probably banished to the surface. Task complete, he folded his arms and looked satisfied.

I eyed the room and the demon with equal suspicion, still wondering why he'd brought me here. "Is this some kind of metaphor, Ash? Scouring my head clean of lies and illusions so I can choose how to rebuild, or something equally profound?"

Ash stared at me blankly for a moment. "…yeessss," he said finally, sounding like this was far better than anything _he'd _come up with. "Exactly! Very perceptive."

I wished I had something to throw at him, and steeled myself against the snigger. "Liar," I said, twisting my features into something sterner. "Spill it, demon."

Ash waved his hand to indicate the room. "It's for you. Place of your own. There's a bigger room beyond that door, and a good-sided bedroom beyond that. It's the work of a moment to get them separate from my glyphs, and set up a home security system of your own. I'll help you reactivate the runes of protection, of course, and it might take a day or two to carve some new ones in. Then, of course, there's the furnishing, but I've got a shitload of stuff I'm not using, so that's easy enough—"

I was too taken aback to even remember that technically, I already owned Ash and all his stuff so this was an empty, if nice, gesture. I just boggled at him in bewilderment, something small and fragile in the vicinity of my throat beginning to ache. "You want me to move out," I said carefully.

Now it was Ash's turn to blink at me, nonplussed. "No," he said, honestly confused. "But you can't return to reality, especially not now. I figured you would want a place of your own."

"Why?"

"Are you kidding?" he asked, then clarified, "I betrayed and murdered your friend, lied to you for years, warped your mind with a compulsion based on more lies, and forced eternal damnation on you. You're too much a softie to outright murder me, but…" Here I saw only a mere flicker of emotion before he hid it under a mask of indifference. "I figured you'd be kicking my ass to the curb right about now. Aren't you going to leave me?"


	5. Sanguinis Interruptus

**In Which Gargoyles Misunderstand Matters**

The silence stretched between us again, as about thirteen separate replies clamored for one mouth.

Ash raised an eyebrow. "That's not a _yes_," he observed, looking thoughtful.

I bit my tongue against another half-dozen or so smartass comments. Meanwhile, righteous indignation battled over the microphone with self-serving justifications in the background of my forebrain. I shook my head to jostle my tongue free. "I really should, shouldn't I?"

"Absolutely," he agreed.

He didn't believe that. Did he? Did I? There he was, nodding and looking so downright reasonable that I knew he had to be pulling reverse psychology on me. _Again._ Oh, _hell_. I swallowed, forcing the competing thoughts away and establishing that I was coherent and reasonable once more by simply putting off the decision for the time being. "I have to… I'm going to need some time to process everything," I said. "I don't even know where to begin."

Ash hesitated a bit too long. "Sure," he said, voice flat. He turned away and took a few slow, aimless steps toward the far side of the room, the side with the mysterious door.

I looked around at the freshly scoured room, watching him. My mind, despite everything I'd just heard, seemed equally empty of any true feelings other than a vague dread, just waiting for the hurricane. I'd feel it, I knew it. The guilt and self-recrimination would come swirling down and I'd be crushed under it. "It's just… how do I go on, now that everything I know… everything I've ever believed about myself, about my life… it was all a lie?"

Ash tilted his head, and I marveled at his calm… then remembered that it was magically enhanced. Perhaps I should be doing likewise? Tempting, but it also seemed like cheating somehow. "Not a lie," he said. "Not exactly. You are the same woman you were ten minutes ago. It was a story, Evie. It was all a story. Rewrite it." He looked toward me again, a little sensual smile playing about his lips. I kicked myself mentally for the little spark that rose in my belly, irked that I was still drawn to him even after everything that had happened. "Rewrite it and believe it with all your soul, because the world will rewrite it as well, and the world's version is always shallow and pitiless."

Didn't I know it. My entire freaking_ life_ since I was sixteen was a story written by someone else: Ash. And the rest of the world. "It's not that simple, Ash!"

He hissed softly, though it had the rhythm of a wry laugh. "It _is _that simple. I didn't say it would be _easy_."

I folded my arms, irked that he wasn't taking my angst seriously. He wasn't going to like this, though. "I think… I think I'm going to need to see it for myself. My… my decision. About Adrian," I clarified.

He whipped his whole body around, pinning me with a glare. "You think I'd lie to you about—"

"No, no. I just… need to…" I couldn't explain why I suddenly craved that memory, to feel what I'd felt as Ash laid it out, to experience making that awful decision. It was never going to seem_ real _otherwise. "…see it. To understand."

"No. You don't." Ash was having none of it. "Evie, we don't remember our deaths for a fucking _reason._ You can't do only part of the memory — you want to experience one bit, you'll have to relive it all. Zee raping your mind, torturing you. The screams of your friends. Dying by fire. Do you really think it's worth it?"

I shivered and couldn't reply, thanks to the lovely images flooding my head. "Did you ever do it?" I asked instead, voice small. "Look at your memories of a death?"

Ash waved his hand. "Hell. Of course I did. We all do it. Exactly _once_. Will you just _trust _me, Evie? It's _not worth it_."

"All the same," I said. "What if there's something important that a demon needed to know? Surely you don't give_ all_ the death tulpas to Newt?"

"Stubborn bitch," Ash growled impatiently. He folded his arms and glared at me. "Fine, if you must know, we make our familiars take them. They experience the memories and report back the important bits. Or we view them directly through the filter of their minds. Assuming Newt doesn't con us out of them for creepy Newt reasons first."

"That's horrible!"

"It's what familiars are _for_," he said, unmoved.

"I see why _you're_ not particularly excited about the idea," I said, glaring right back. "Maybe it's time you started earning your keep,_ familiar_."

He snorted, turning away as if he'd lost interest. Oh sure… he might be willing to murder someone for me, but it's not like he'd put himself to any _real _trouble on my behalf. I almost let myself smile, because that was so like my Ash. But then he paused, and slowly faced me again. "There's… another option," he said, words heavy with reluctance. "I could let you see _my _memory of that moment."

My jaw dropped again. Honestly, I'd pretty much spent the last half hour in a state of slack-jawed bewilderment, but this was by far the most startling thing he'd said yet. Ash, paranoid and intensely private, had only let me into his mind twice, and then only for the briefest of glimpses. He wasn't happy about the idea at all — probably because not even the best liar can deliberately lie in their own thoughts. What Ash was offering, a direct memory… my god, was he actually starting to trust me?

"But only if we're mated," he added.

"Otherwise it's off the table?" I said, a little disappointed that he'd make staying with him a condition of sharing this with me. Of course. It only made sense.

"Otherwise I can't do it properly," he snapped. "Honestly, woman. Meet me halfway, maybe?"

I flushed, embarrassed. "Sorry. Wait, you're still interested? In mating?" Ash looked at the ceiling, clearly at the end of his patience. "But you said…"

Ash fixed me with his raptor stare, unsmiling. "You know… _Dali _wouldn't waste time with all this," he said, spreading his hands to indicate the room. I figured he really meant the conversation we'd just had. "Do you know what he'd have done, the day he and Newt pulled you into our Collective? He'd have simply killed the witch then and there, to complete the spell. Or more likely, tricked you into doing it." Ash paused as I grimaced in horror, then added, "Or if he were smarter, he'd have done what I did, and then just told you the witch died in the chaos. Point is, he wouldn't have gone to these lengths to indulge your need for information and control."

I folded my arms. "So treating me as a person with agency and opinions is _indulgence,_ is it? Thanks for _indulging _me, then, and I'd take you over him any day." It was true. I still needed Ash, in ways that had nothing to do with the comfortable niche he'd carved out for himself in my beleaguered heart. Practical considerations would still force me to mate with_ someone_, and there was no way I'd ever trust Dali enough not to fry him if he tried it.

Ash's eyes glittered as he turned the rest of his body to face me, sudden menace oozing from him, and I felt a tingle shiver through me. "Have you decided, then…?" he asked.

I folded my arms. "Ash. I know I said I'd think it over. And I tried to, because_ you _friggin' _begged_ me to. But I think we both know that me choosing _Dali_ as my mate was never an option." Which was probably why Dali despised me so. He was Top Dog of the Ever After and he was going to lose to a demon who hadn't a tenth of his wealth, power, and status. The longer I pretended to string him along, the more of an enemy I'd make.

Ash grinned mirthlessly. With fangs. He oriented on me, nostrils flaring, flexing his clawed fingers a little in anticipation. Damn, even if I knew he wasn't_ literally_ going to bite my head off and gnaw on my bones, he was still friggin' scary-looking when he did that. He didn't have the soporific pheromones or sexy camouflage of a vampire at all — he just looked demonic and hungry. "You don't have to live with me," he rumbled, taking step toward me. "You don't even have to pretend you love me. A marriage of convenience."

I blinked and took an involuntary step back, cold sweat beading on my forehead. Now? He was going to do it _now_? No preamble, just _chomp_?

Ash paused, the predatory glamor slipping a little to reveal a brief flash of his own vulnerability. I could easily rip apart his mind during the process of mating, after all. I held onto that thought as my amygdala sent out a red alert, along with a healthy dose of adrenaline. "Having second thoughts?" His voice was hoarse and low.

"Just… just like that?" I asked, heart pounding. It came out squeakier than I'd intended.

"You want me to break out the iced wine and roses?" he asked. "Shall I seduce you with pretty words…?"

I shook my head. After everything I'd just been through, everything I'd been told and the terrible sin I'd committed, to end it all with a sexual encounter would leave me utterly revolted with myself and him, and he probably felt likewise. But still, to treat a significant life event like this as something to just _get over with_…

He lowered his head, glowering at me, and I could swear his eyes glowed. "I am sick to fucking Hades of being _reasonable_ while you toy with me," he growled. "I am not a patient man."

"Ash—" Shit. He was back to misinterpreting things, and I didn't know how to fix it.

"No. I'll not live with this uncertainty a moment longer. You can run from me, but if you turn on me I will tear apart your mind even as you destroy mine. Will you run?" he purred, flexing his claws again, and my heart fairly leapt to my throat as I contemplated what being torn into might feel like if he wasn't distracting me with magic or sex. I did seriously contemplating running, or at least throwing up a defensive circle — not that it would do any good against a demon who shared my aura.

I had to gulp before I could reply, "Not… not running." It felt like a victory of some sort, because I knew he wanted me to make a beeline for the door. And it wasn't like we had a lot of time for indulgence of pretty feelings, so yeah, we really ought to just get it over with. I shrieked in surprise anyway as he just _blurred_. He was behind me in an instant, wrapping me in an iron grip and sinking fangs into my neck without preamble. I shook and couldn't suppress a whimper as his venom burned like warm electric current though my veins. This time I felt everything as the startling quicksilver sensation spread through me, leaving a dull, leaden lassitude in its wake. I squirmed a little harder when he pulled me tighter, then froze when the tips of his talons tore through the heavy wool and pricked my chest. I felt like he'd pinned me against his body like a specimen butterfly. I might have had a chuckle for the ridiculousness of the thought, but was distracted from saying something snarky by a scrabbling sound from the huge fireplace behind us.

"Hey. Hey! Hey hey hey what the hell what the hell?" Something crashed into us and knocked us both over in a tangle of limbs and scrabbling claws and stony wings. "Get off her!" A powerful hand grabbed my wrist and jerked me painfully to the side, and instantly the world's ley lines were screaming for attention in my head. I cried out in confusion within the tangled mental web as Ash swore and began a curse.

Another voice, this one equally gravelly, shouted, "It's just me, you idiot! And don't hurt hi—OW!" There was a grinding smash of a boulder dropped onto pavement, but I was relieved not to hear the expected skitter of little bits of stone follow the crash.

I managed to wrench my hand free of the crushing grip, only to have the grip reestablished much more firmly around my waist. My vision cleared just in time to see Cadenza, now grown to the size of an angry moose, leap back to her feet and tackle Ash from behind just as he'd lifted a glowing hand in our direction. She squashed him facedown onto the floor, preventing his curse from taking Crescendo's head off. "Don't you dare!" she growled.

"Ash, don't freak out, it's just the gargoyles!"

Ash snarled and glowered at Crescendo and me, but couldn't otherwise move. Even with demon strength, if an angry gargoyle sits on you, you stay squashed. "Get…off…me…you…_lummox_," he panted.

"No," she growled. "Get a grip."

"Who's this asshole?" Crescendo demanded, grasping my arm to drag me further away from the fuming Ash. The world dissolved into the multicolored symphony of magical mayhem once more, and I blinked rapidly to try to clear my vision. "Why the hell's he attacking you?"

Hoo boy. "He wasn't attacking me," I insisted through the magical chaos once again blooming in my hypersensitive head. A moment later I felt Ash move in my mind, and the sensations faded to a dull background noise. My vision still spun from the venom, but whatever spell Ash had been weaving had evaporated. It didn't feel at all like it had last time, and even though there was still a demon in my head, I wasn't feeling any new superpowers blossoming in my head. Swell. I guess we'd be doing this _again_…?

"Fuck that! You're bleeding!"

I was touched by his concern. He'd only met me an hour or two ago, and he'd just come charging in to save my life. I could tell I was going to like this guy, assuming he survived the next five minutes. "I'm OK, I promise. I let him bite me. It's OK."

"You… _let _him." Crescendo sounded disgusted. "You looked plenty freaked out to me." I gave a weak meep of protest as he let me fall bonelessly to the ground, and I looked up through the clearing lines of magical chaos in my vision to see him shaking his head. "You're into vamps. Shoulda said. Oy."

Cadenza sniffed and gave all of us a disdainful look. Satisfied that she'd saved the day, she stepped off of Ash with an air of wounded dignity. She prowled over to the central fire pit, shook out her wings, and hunkered down, glaring balefully at nothing. She'd never been much for conversation around me, but I wasn't sure if she disliked talking, disliked me, disliked Ash, disliked demons, or just disliked everyone generally. Crescendo, on the other hand, stared around the room once, taking it in, then looked me over with wide-eyed relief, even if he did look somewhat concerned for my sanity as I dabbed at my neck as best I could. "So. The elf wasn't shitting me. You _are _alive." He grinned, which is a frightening expression at the best of times when it's on a gargoyle's ugly mug. Then his nose crinkled. I thought it was probably the burnt amber reek, but instead, he said, "What the hell are you _wearing_?"

I looked down at the thing Newt had dressed me in, examining it closely for the first time. It consisted of two rectangles sewn together with a holes for head and hands, in various shades of sheep. Now it was splattered with gore; hopefully she didn't want it back. My laugh only sounded a little unbalanced. "I have no idea. A gift from Newt."

"_Scrabiasce_. Mesopotamian blanket-tunic-coat thing," said Ash, still looking pissed as he climbed wincing to his feet, one hand on his ribs. "Cadenza!" he added accusingly, glaring at her. "Fuck. You broke a rib."

"Ah. A medieval thneed," I said sagely, as Cadenza rolled her eyes, hawked, and spat something smoky at Ash's feet, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like "whiner" under her breath.

"Mesopotamia predated the Roman empire, Evie. Hardly _medieval_," Ash said, still petulant. He probed his side again and groaned, then decided it was worth spending a precious healing curse to fix himself up.

"Whatever. It's better than naked." I waited for him to heal up my demon-inflicted injuries, then realized he wasn't going to waste another curse on my minor wounds. Probably wise, if completely ungallant of him. I turned to Crescendo as Ash joined Cadenza in the grumpy _sotto voce_ muttering. "You're all right? How's Rachel? What happened after…"

"After that creepy freak fried you like bacon?" Crescendo shuddered with a sound like grinding boulders. "I'm going to have nightmares about that for years. Thank God the pebble wasn't there to see that, s'all I can say."

"Actually, a bit before that. I don't remember anything after Zee broke my circle." Words cannot describe the complicated tangle in my mind at the moment, but it could probably be summed up by the fact that I was _relieved _at the chance to talk about how some monster had tortured and killed me rather than face up to all the other shit that had happened since. Compartmentalization, an Evie specialty.

Crescendo looked from me to Ash, and I realized I hadn't introduced them yet. Social awkwardness, another Evie talent. "Sorry… Crescendo, this is Ash. My… my lover."

I wasn't sure who looked more startled, my demon or my gargoyle. Cadenza just shifted, looking like she'd rather be anywhere else. "Delighted," Ash said, making it sound like a challenge.

"Suuuure," Crescendo drawled, eying Ash with far more suspicion as Ash prowled around him, the two of them so obviously sizing each other up that I almost laughed. I guess I hadn't mentioned that I was sleeping with the enemy, so to speak. He returned his gaze to me, then squinted thoughtfully. "Hey," he said, leaning to peer closer at my face. "Did your eyes always look like that?"

Oh, no. "They aren't red now, are they?" I asked, dreading the answer. Ash sidled up beside me and slipped a proprietary hand onto the small of my back.

"No. Probably just this shit light. Anyway, so you asked what happened. The psycho had us all cornered in the gazebo, and you were sitting there like a cocky moron mouthing off at him. Is that a thing you usually do?"

"No," I said, under Ash's simultaneous, "Yes." I scowled up at him briefly, then turned my attention back to Crescendo.

"He gets all pissy and busts your circle, and holds you hostage for a bit trying to get Rachel to hand over the baby. Rachel's not budging, even when I point out to her that as a bound gargoyle, my ass is kind of tied to yours and I'd be real appreciative if _she'd_ stop mouthing off at him, too. Is that a thing she usually does?"

"Yes," Ash and I both agreed on this one.

"So then you said something else that really set him off. Something about you knowing where his kids were. He stopped and went all funny, and then he kind of went vague and you started hollering for him to get out of your head. You were clawing at your face and everything; it was horrible to watch."

Ash's hand rose to bury itself in my hair while I cringed at the idea. The full experience had been right there, in my hand, before Newt had made jewelry out of it. _Thank you, Newt, and your macabre collecting…_

"That went on for a good long eternity, though it was probably only a minute or so. Then he went utterly batshit. Holy hell, it was scary. He totally forgot about us and the baby." If a gargoyle could look nauseated, Crescendo certainly did. "Yeah. So that was that. Tore Rachel apart that she couldn't help you, but the others wouldn't let her break the circle. Ceri told Rachel you'd come back to life later. Then the demon just vanished."

I nodded, swallowing. Ceri must have figured out what my rejection from holy ground meant. "Good. So the baby's safe, then?"

Crescendo let out a rattling sigh. "Yeah," he drawled. "The, ah, the _baby's _safe."

"Rachel and Ceri and Quen? They're OK?"

Crescendo shifted. "Um…" he said, and for the second time in minutes I heard the hemming and hawing of someone who had a very unwelcome truth to share. _Oh, no._

"Spill it, gargoyle," Ash said, not unkindly. "We need to know."

"So we're all thinking the guy's gone, but Ceri won't let us break the big circle until she's done a magic sweep of the garden to ensure he's not just hanging around all misty or invisible. She's busy chanting when there's this explosion over by the main house. The security guy, Quen, breaks the circle and hightails it to the house like a bat outta hell. I never seen a guy move that fast. The others are right behind. I wasn't sure if I should follow. I mean, I hardly knew them, and I barely knew you, but I thought maybe someone should stay with you for, y'know, if you came back."

I smiled at him, feeling teary-eyed again. "Thank you. That was kind of you."

He huffed, though I thought he looked pleased. "Shoulda gone with 'em. Maybe I'd have been able to help. Anyway, it was pretty clear after about ten minutes or so that whatever come-back-to-life thing was supposed to happen, it wasn't gonna happen to your smoking _corpse_. So I flew over to the big house to see if everything was OK." He shifted again, looking at his feet, tail thrashing like that of a cat. "So, uh, Zaebos had already been there and left."

My eyes widened, even as my heart sank. "Oh, no. What did he do?"

"He killed a couple of people and… and he took a little girl."

I clapped my hands to my mouth to muffle the anguished cry. "Ray? He took _Ray_?" The thought of that cheerful, sweet little girl in the hands of the demented demon was too much to bear. "Oh no."

The gargoyle's lip curled. "Yeah. The kid's nanny was in a bad way, but could still deliver Zee's message. Said she'd serve his purpose, was equally valuable or something so they could just keep what they'd stolen. I thought the two elves might just bring the rest of the place down on our heads when they heard that."

But my brain was backtracking. "Solange? Is Solange OK? The nanny," I clarified.

"She should recover," Crescendo said. A glance up at Ash's face showed it to be blank, serene, and fixed on a point over Crescendo's head — a sure sign that Ash was beyond pissed at this news. "They got her treated right away. This Trent guy has a whole med center with doctors and everything, though nobody ever said why."

"Thank goodness," I said. I already had Adrian's death on my conscience. I just couldn't lose Solange, too. "Surely they must have summoned him back, or at least rung him up on the mirror…?"

"Oh yeah," he said. "They were in the middle of that when I came in. Rachel had her hand on one of those little makeup compact mirrors, all etched with mystic symbols, and was getting seriously eloquent with the swearing. Just as I get in, she goes all quiet. Really deathly pale and still. She kinda nods, then… OK, this is kind of hard to describe. It was like she sort of fell into the mirror. I mean, it was this big…" Here he made a circle out of his index finger and thumb, "…and she's fully human sized, and yet somehow she fit and fell right through it, headfirst." He shook his head, hissing. "Damnedest thing I ever seen."

"And…?" I prompted, when he fell silent.

"And what? That's it. Poor Bis showed up all freaked out over the new ley line, and they sent him off to try to track Rachel down. Near as we can figure, Rachel turned herself over to the demon to protect the little girl. Probably doing whatever the hell he wants her to do, until she can figure out a way to bust the kid free. Ceri's too afraid to try summoning her 'cause that'd leave Ray alone with him. She's not answering her mirror. They were still trying to reach her when this lovely lady came to pick me up." He winked at Cadenza, who broke her stony immobility to snarl and lash her tail at him.

I nodded. That would totally be a Rachel thing to do. My heart eased a little at that thought, though not by much. Zee was a monster, and it was increasingly unclear what he was trying to do. When he couldn't get Hope, he'd set his sights on Lucy. So it couldn't be simply that he wanted an uncursed demon woman. And when he couldn't get Lucy, he'd gone after Ray. Perhaps any elven child would do? And there had to be a reason he'd allowed Rachel to come along. Had he only kidnapped Ray so he could control Rachel?

"This little girl," Ash said in a deliberately casual voice. "She's an elf?"

I nodded. "She's Ceri's daughter."

Ash looked thoughtful. "She's healthy? Cured of the damage to her DNA?"

I blinked. "That's right. She and Lucy both. And probably dozens of other elven babies at this point—"

Ash's mouth twisted into a snarl, but he refrained from comment at the fact that the elves, unlike the demons, had apparently begun to happily multiply again. "But these were the only two _Zaebos_ knew of, yes?"

My heart sank for the dozenth time that day. "Oh, God. He probably learned about her from me, didn't he? When he got into my head. He probably learned everything I knew — about you guys attacking the Coven, about Delores, about Solange and Ray…"

"Eh, don't beat yourself up over it. Newt was right, we should've left you with her." Ash waved this aside, even as I mentally added another innocent life to the checklist of Things Evie Screwed Up. "The important bit is, there's a _pattern_. Zaebos now has under his control a cured demon woman _and_ a cured elven child. If Newt's right, he intends to use one or both of them to try to enter the nexus. Which is conveniently bereft of most of its protective charms at the moment, thanks to us, and possibly only protected by one Coven madman."

"Is Oliver strong enough to hold the fort by himself, do you think?"

"Maybe. Especially if he didn't kill the other witches, and they're working with him."

"Do you think Oliver's working with Zee?" I asked.

Ash shrugged. "Well, given that Oliver timed his entrance to the precise moment we'd be momentarily incapacitated by Zee's actions, I'd say there's a good chance they were communicating somehow. Al's right. We'd be foolish to think it merely coincidence."

On the one hand, if Oliver was working with Zee, it was likely he'd executed Brooke and Pierce. On the other hand, I still couldn't imagine that Oliver was working with Zee voluntarily. There had to be a trick or something. Excited, because all the disparate threads were finally starting to weave together into something coherent, I said, "So Zee's going to the Coven, and he's going to try to use Rachel or Ray to get into the nexus, and… do what, exactly?"

Ash didn't look nearly as excited, or even concerned. "He's going to get bounced out like the rest of us, as is Rachel and the kid, and then he'll probably kill them both."

"But what if they _do_ get in? Consider just this once that maybe Newt's right. She and Zee believed it so strongly that they put this whole cock-eyed scheme together years ago, even after they were sanctioned for the Ku'Sox thing. Imagine that maybe the two of them saw further than any of you. What would he do, if he got into the nexus?"

Ash turned to face me and gave me his _I'm humoring you because I like you_ look. "You know that oft-used phrase, 'When the worlds collide…?' It's possible he could actually bring it about."


End file.
